


Key to My Heart

by Pizzafreek



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Dreams, Fluff, M/M, otp: wait that's my word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzafreek/pseuds/Pizzafreek
Summary: Pete works through his feelings and shares them with Chasten at Christmas.
Relationships: Chasten Buttigieg/Pete Buttigieg
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Key to My Heart

... _Chasten’s fingers feathering along his spine as his head tilted for a kiss…_

“What do you think, Mayor?”

Pete came suddenly, abruptly, back to himself. From the looks on the faces around the conference table in his office, there hadn’t been too long a silence since the question.

“I...think your recommendation sounds great, Laura. Unless there’s another consideration we haven’t discussed?” Pete heard his voice from what sounded like miles away. He hoped he remembered enough of the initial conversation that his response wasn’t totally off-base.

Whatever he’d just agreed to, it seemed that everyone was on board. Fortunately, that was the final item on their weekly staff meeting’s agenda, so Pete stood up from his seat at the head of the table as he concluded the meeting and his staff left the room. Instead of returning to his desk, though, Pete went to stand in front of a section of the large windows ringing the office. He gazed unseeingly at the skyline of his hometown as he processed what had just happened. He, Pete Buttigieg, with his reputation for listening so intently, with his all-consuming interest in the fortunes of South Bend, had just lost part of an entire agenda item while fantasizing about his boyfriend.

To be fair, he felt like he had a good excuse. Chasten was even now on his way to South Bend for their personal Christmas celebration before packing up to head north to Traverse City the next day. Pete had to admit he was anxious about meeting Chasten’s parents and family for the first time. Truth be told, he was even more nervous about the gift he had for Chasten. 

Pete was typically one of the thousands of people -- mainly men -- thronging the local mall on Christmas Eve. Gifts were important, but for him the process was not part of the fun, not to mention the time it took. Pete had never found the level of enjoyment that others experienced in choosing just the right item. Truthfully, he was most pleased if the gift-wrapping table was still staffed and his final decisions could be selecting either silver or red wrapping paper and deciding how much of a tip the Mayor needed to leave for the charity the table supported. 

But this gift -- his first Christmas gift for Chasten -- was everything. More important, perhaps, than any other gift he’d ever chosen. Tonight, the gift would be given, and the story would, finally, be told. Pete had been waiting two long months for this.

Later that afternoon, Pete had just gotten home and changed from his work suit and tie into casual clothes -- his favorite blue sweater and the new slim-cut jeans Chasten had insisted he buy three weeks ago -- when the doorbell rang.

As he opened the door, he felt the smile bloom across his face. Seeing Chasten with an answering smile on his front porch was the most alive and joyous he’d felt all week. 

Chasten quickly stepped across the threshold and they hugged tightly. Peter could feel the tension leaving his body as Chasten’s arms surrounded him; his breathing deepened and slowed, and his eyes drifted closed. They stood, pressed together, as their breathing meshed. 

“I missed you,” Peter said. 

“This week felt like it would never end,” Chasten agreed. 

Arms around each other, they walked slowly into the living room and dropped onto the couch. Chasten leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder and sighed. 

“Well, at least we have several days to spend together with the holiday and all. Even if we do have to spend part of them with my family and in separate bedrooms.” 

“It’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to meeting all the Glezmans.”

“Hopefully my brothers won’t pray for our salvation in public.”

Peter huffed under his breath and smiled his one-sided, slightly smirky smile.

“I’m a politician; I’ll just make a boring speech until they go away.”

They decided to order in rather than go out for dinner. After the Chinese food had been delivered and devoured, they settled back onto the couch, beers on the table in front of them.

Peter’s eyes kept returning to the small box under the Christmas tree. He knew it was time.

“I...I want to give you my gift before we head out to your parents’ house tomorrow,” 

“I actually brought in my gift for you too,” Chasten said. “I wanted to give it to you when we’re alone.”

They both got up, Chasten heading for the bag he’d left by the stairs, Peter for the tree. Rejoining each other on the couch, they looked at the wrapped packages in each others’ hands. The part of Peter’s brain that missed damn little noted that after just a few months, they had each naturally gravitated to a specific spot on the couch; close enough to touch but just far enough apart to feel the continued tension of not actually touching.

Chasten broke first.

“I can’t stand it. Here, open it,” thrusting a rectangular package at Peter.

Peter slowly, carefully opened the package. He wanted to savor this moment -- the first gift he’d received from the man he loved.

The scent of old leather rose as Peter unwrapped the gift. A book. But not just any book, he realized as he flipped it over. A leather-bound edition of _Ulysses_. 

“This is amazing!” Peter exclaimed. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“I was thrilled to find it,” Chasten said, proudly. “I was headed to a substitute teaching job one day and passed a rare book store. I walked in after school was out and asked if they had any books by James Joyce. And they had this. Obviously it was meant to be. Thank goodness for a last-minute sub position at Lakewood Elementary!”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Peter breathed. “This is one of the most incredible gifts I’ve ever received.” He looked up and their eyes met as Peter leaned in to kiss Chasten. Neither of them could look away. Finally Chasten broke the spell.

“So…” his voice was rough. “Did you say this is for me?”

Peter’s throat tightened. He wasn’t sure he could speak, so he nodded and handed over the gift.

Chasten slowly opened the small box. His eyebrows drew together as he looked back up at Peter. 

“A key?”

“To the house,” Peter agreed. “I’d better explain.

“When I came back from Afghanistan, and then came out publicly, I told people that I wanted -- I needed -- to know what it felt like to be in love. What I didn’t tell anyone was that I wasn’t even really sure if I would recognize it if and when I finally felt it. Part of me wondered if I even had the ability to feel that deeply after keeping all my emotions about relationships locked up inside for so many years. I was so afraid of what I _would_ feel all that time that I wasn’t sure I actually _could_ feel any more.”

Peter swallowed. “And my first few dates seemed to reinforce that suspicion. I never really felt a connection with anyone, no matter how much I wanted to.

“But then I met you. And the connection was...immediate. I wanted to know you better. I wanted to spend time with you. I felt like I could barely breathe when you smiled at me. Even then, though, I wondered if it was real. Was I in lust or in love? Would I know the difference?”

He gazed into Chasten’s bright blue eyes and smiled, shyly, trying to gauge how Chasten was hearing the story. “You know introverts tend to overthink things sometimes, right?”

“So I’ve heard,” Chasten said dryly. “But please, let’s get back to you not knowing how you felt about me, because to be honest, I’m a little confused.”

“I’m not saying this well,” Peter said. “It was around the middle of October when I realized how I really felt. But I didn’t recognize it consciously. I dreamed it.”

_Pete would not call himself a morning person by any stretch. Still, though, he typically woke up a few minutes before his alarm so he could psych himself up to make the push out of bed. This was especially true on those first frigid fall mornings in Indiana, when getting out of his warm bed was the last thing he wanted to do._

_This morning, though, was different. The alarm had shrilled, startling him out of a dream. His breath came short and a feeling of missing something important hung over him. Pete closed his eyes as he tried to put the pieces back together. He was...in a house? No, he was on the front porch of a house. Not just any house...it was the front porch of his childhood home, down the street from where he now lay._

_As fragments of the dream started to drift away, he tried to focus on what remained. The door was locked, and he didn’t have the key. And he knew there was something important on the other side of the door that he needed to get to. Something as essential as air or water. Something life-giving._

_Suddenly Pete’s eyes flew open and he sat straight up in bed. He remembered what happened just before the alarm jerked him awake._

Peter’s eyes gazed steadily into Chasten’s. “I was knocking, really pounding, on the door,” Pete said. “Then the door suddenly opened and I saw what I had been looking for on the other side. What I knew I needed.

“It was you, Chasten. You, across the threshold, smiling at me. And you took my hand and pulled me inside.”

Chasten inhaled sharply. “That’s when...if that was the middle of October, that was when you said you loved me for the first time.” 

“I didn’t need Sigmund Freud to explain the significance,” Peter grinned. “I knew that all my concerns about knowing what love is were just me being afraid. And more importantly, I knew that you were the key that unlocked all those feelings I’d kept stored away for too long.

“So when I started thinking about Christmas, I wanted to give you the right present; something that would express everything that you mean to me, and that would also express everything that I’ve become since meeting you.” 

Looking straight into Chasten’s eyes, Peter added, “But I have something else I want to ask you. Will you move in with me? Here, in South Bend? I feel like I’m wishing away the weekdays, no matter how busy I am, waiting to see you on Fridays. 

“I want to wake up next to you every morning and talk about our days over the dinner table, face to face. I want to be able to hug you when you’ve had a rough day and I want the people of South Bend to get to know you. And I want you to feel secure and know how much I adore you, and that I will never, ever, treat you with anything but respect and love.”

Peter watched as a tear rolled slowly down Chasten’s cheek. “Babe. I know that. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.

“Yes, I’ll move in with you. I’ll have to get a job, and figure out my apartment lease, but... yes. I can’t think of anything I’d like more."

They smiled at each other and each leaned in until their foreheads met. 

“Merry Christmas, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Pocket for the initial read and important feedback! First fic so please be nice.


End file.
